In response to their fascination with the ever shifting and evolving infrastructures of the built environment and its steadily increasing hard-wired relationship to our neural existence, Taylor and Murray have transformed the gallery into a microcosmic interdisciplinary laboratory. Their intriguing installation suspends the viewer in orbit while simultaneously shrinking the sub structures of urban development into a prefabricated tentacalised ultra-hive.

This work questions our very existence as independent creatures with unique sociolect operating systems. Is it our digital profiles or our childhood reasoning choosing the fragrance and colour of our toilet paper, or are we pawns to the smart ads in the margins of our email clients that recommend investment opportunities in Fracking Corporations because we recently paid a gas bill?

As rents rise, floor plans shrink and gated communities multiply we notice that our ham is beginning to taste like cheese and we wonder when that happened.
Even as we journey through our ‘first world’ education systems studying versions of our collective histories we seem to learn little of the perils of civilisations built on perpetual high risk growth. Invariably the most refined and exquisitely composed history books leave behind as much as they carry forward, while the omnipresent god particle leaves in its wake a sticky trail of lost knowledge, forgotten generosities, inequalities, waste and chaos.

For those fortunate enough to be involved in this digi-faustian event horizon, it’s like staring down a microscope and watching millennia multiply. On face value it would appear to be a contract worth signing, as we queue up in the thousands, and sleep overnight in high streets, in order to lay our hands on the latest technological icon, forgetting the impediment to this marriage is that the technology has already eaten our limbs, and absorbed our neurological energy field, depriving the brain of free thought. So as the sun completes its orbit and our understanding of desire feels like a drain hole in a desert, will we look back and wonder why individual choice was ever even thought necessary.